


Scientific Method

by cherrywood



Category: Sugar Pine 7
Genre: Begging, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, Fingerfucking, Humiliation, M/M, Power Dynamics, Semi-Public Sex, talks of voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 08:06:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15432645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrywood/pseuds/cherrywood
Summary: The thing about Jeremy is that James doesn’t know a thing about him.(then they fuck in a closet).





	Scientific Method

**Author's Note:**

> if no one else is going to write niche sp7 porn for me than i guess i'll do it myself >:^/

The thing about Jeremy is that James doesn’t know a thing about him, which is a problem because if James doesn’t know anything about him then he certainly doesn’t know his weaknesses and Jeremy seems like the exact type of guy whose weaknesses you would want to know.

It’s also might be important to note that whenever Jeremy is in the room James can feel his body go into fight-or-flight mode and his brain gets distracted by the stupidest things, like his hands that are currently gripping the doorframe as he blocks the only exit out of the office.

It’s not really that fun. 

“Jeremy,” Steve starts after a beat of silence in which James tries to ignore the way his heartbeat speeds up and his cheeks get too hot considering the fact that the AC is blasting. “We need to leave.”

“Okay,” Jeremy says with his little half-grin. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even twitch.

Cib tries to grab onto James’ wrist, but he shakes him off, not wanting to look scared.

Steve takes a deep breath, “And you’re blocking the only exit.”

Jeremy lifts his sunglasses to the top of his head, “Okay,” he agrees.

“So we need you to move,” Steve finishes, his voice distinctly less confident than it had been when he started, though he remained outwardly impassive.

“Okay,” Jeremy smiled and Cib visibly shivered as he ran his eyes over the three of them, pausing on James with a thoughtful tilt of his head. “But I need to borrow James for a few hours.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Steve is looking at him and James doesn't like the look at all. He also doesn’t like the implications of ‘being borrowed’ for a few hours. He’s not scared - he’s not a coward - but Jeremy is a fucking creep.

“What for?” Steve asks suspiciously. “You can’t kill him.”

Jeremy laughs like it’s a joke even though they all know it wasn’t, “I just want to show him something, no harm will come to him. I swear.” 

He even holds up his hands like that somehow is supposed to make him less terrifying when they all know that he summons monsters or some shit like that. 

James really doesn't want to see anything Jeremy would have to show him but Steve is looking over at him thoughtfully. He tries to shake his head discreetly but it’s jerkier than he wants it to be. James is not a coward, but at that moment he would rather run and hide in the closet with the power tools than stand there as Steve barters away his life literally two feet in front of him.

“Just go with him,” Steve whispers despite the fact Jeremy is still within hearing distance. “Distract him so that we can do our thing.”

“Why can’t I do your thing?” James whines, he doesn’t normally care when Steve and Cib go off on their own because it means he gets a few hours to himself (and Autumn, but she doesn’t really talk unless he asks her a direct question) while still getting paid.

Hanging out with Jeremy, even for just two hours, is not worth his shitty salary, any salary for that matter, what’s point of money when you’re six feet under.

Steve rolls his eyes like James is being particularly unreasonable for not wanting to be the distraction for the potential serial killer they’re all reluctantly friends with out of fear that he might sacrifice them to some pagan god if they aren’t, “Because Jeremy asked to hang out with you.”

“Since when do you listen to Jeremy?” James hisses back, completely aware of Jeremy’s eyes are boring holes into the side of his head. What he finds so interesting about his right ear is beyond him, but it doesn’t bode well.

Steve sneers in the way that James has learned means he’s embarrassed but unwilling to admit it, “Since he holds us hostage inside our own office.”

“We don’t negotiate with terrorists,” Cib finally decides to add his two cents in a voice that might be his impersonation of Steve’s dad, who he for some reason is convinced is a drill sergeant despite being told countless times that he is not. 

Jeremy who smirks lightly and (thankfully) turns away from James to look at Cib instead, “It’s not a negotiation,” he informs them.

Steve ignores him, still looking James in the eyes, “We’ll be back in two hours.”

James frowns, the tension in the air heightens as everyone waits for his response.

“One hour,” he finally acquiesces with a heavy sigh, not seeing any other way out of it, at least they’ll just be in the office, he’s not going anywhere near Jeremy’s creepy house.

Jeremy’s toothy grin almost makes him want to reconsider his decision but Steve is already pushing past Jeremy, not waiting around to see whether or not he’ll accept the compromise. Jeremy lets him go without a fuss, winking at Cib who shoots James one more nervous glance before scurrying out too.

And then is just the two of them, well and Autumn but she’s got her headphones on and hasn’t looked up once during the entire exchange so James can’t count on her for any help.

“We’re going to have fun,” Jeremy smiles and it looks slimier than Cib’s ‘homemade mac and cheese’ he brought to the office one day that was just a casserole made with tap water, rice, and dog food. Autumn had eaten half of it after James dared her twenty-bucks that she wouldn’t but Steve stopped her before she could finish, scared that he would have to pay workers comp if she ended up in the hospital. 

James represses a shudder and tries to force a look of indifference despite the way his heart jackrabbits against his ribs.

Espionage, that’s what this is. He’s learning about the enemy. Except he’s not sure if Jeremy counts as an enemy because his presence makes the hairs on the back of James’ neck stand on end, and he’s still not sure where he stands on the whole Parker thing. To be fair, James himself still doesn't really know where he stands on the whole Parker thing. 

And yeah, Jeremy is probably the type of guy that wants to fuck dead bodies or something, but his fingertips are calloused and would be so perfect wrapped around-

Okay, no. 

James shakes his head, trying to physically dislodge the thought from his brain as if that’s how it worked.  
It had been too long since he had gotten laid, that was all that was. 

Jeremy is watching him still, eyes obscured by the sunglasses and James has half a second of pure panic as he imagines having said his thoughts out loud. Luckily Jeremy doesn't say anything to suggest that, but he doesn’t stop staring either.

“What were you going to’ show me,” James finally mumbles out hating the nervousness evident in his voice. He feels distinctly uncomfortable, he can’t even see Jeremy’s eyes but he still feels trapped by them, like a butterfly pinned against a board by some creepy hobbyist.

Maybe Jeremy’s hobby was just being creepy. It would explain a lot. 

Jeremy seems to snap out of whatever weird trance he was in, lifting his sunglasses up to the top of his head again and looking around the office with a casual interest.

“I like what you’ve done to the place,” he says instead of answering.

James ignores the way he looks at him through half-lidded eyes, swallowing back the lump of fear in his throat, “You’ve seen it before.”

Jeremy hums noncommittally, twisting his lips into a smirk as he turns back to James.

“How have you been?”

James startles at the normalcy of the question, his shoulders are stiff with tension and he can feel his fingers twitching with unreleased anxiety.

“None of your business,” his response is curt, implying no interest in whatever it is Jeremy wants from him.

Jeremy doesn’t seem to mind, his lips still curved into a small smile that betrayed neither annoyance nor discomfort at James’ rudeness. It’s as disconcerting as Jeremy always is and James’ shoulders stiffen with tension and his fingers begin to twitch with unreleased anxiety. There’s something ominous about the situation; Jeremy acting as some sort of grim reaper in his black t-shirt.

Then he takes off his sunglasses, not at all what James was expecting.

“James,” he starts low and slow like he’s talking to a child who refuses to listen. “It is my business.”

And James can only blink in response, despite the humiliation at being talked down to, the statement seems sincere, not a teasing remark told to throw him off guard like he might expect. In a way it’s the sincerity that throws him off, even more, he’s not sure what to do with the information that Jeremy apparently cares about his wellbeing.

Jeremy is watching him in his usual predatory way but there’s something more in it, something that has always been there but had been hidden. James isn’t sure how to classify the look, fondness? Compassion? He’s feeling a bit lightheaded and lost. Maybe he was getting sick? 

Interest, he finally decides on. Jeremy is looking at him with interest. 

What he’s interested in is still up in the air.

James realizes with sudden horror that he’s been staring at Jeremy in silence for the last minute as he attempts to analyze him. It makes him take an unconscious step back and Jeremy raises one eyebrow, ever so slightly like he was waiting for a response.

Before James can formulate a proper explanation for his awkwardness Jeremy speaks again.

“You like what you see?” he asks.

For a second James thinks he’s hearing things. There’s no way Jeremy would say that. Except he had, so it had to have been a misunderstanding. Jeremy always says weird shit, there’s no way it means what James thinks it means.

Jeremy is not... _flirting_ with him. It sounds ridiculous to his own brain.

“What?” He manages to cough out, not his most eloquent but Jeremy is really throwing him through the ringer right now so it’s not James’ fault he’s at a loss of words.

Jeremy lets out a little breath that could be a laugh but could also just be a sigh. “Do you know about the scientific method?”

“First you ask a question, then you research the question,” Jeremy doesn’t bother to wait for a response, which is good because James isn’t sure he could come up with one. James is lost, has been since Jeremy stood at the door to the office and refused to leave. 

Jeremy shifts into his space, crowding him against the wall, not quite touching yet but close enough that James’ skin prickles. 

“From that research, you get a hypothesis, I assume you know what that means?” Jeremy questions lightly, looking amused at James’ confusion. James does know what a hypothesis is, he passed middle school science, he just doesn’t understand what it has to do with this situation.

“It’s a guess, what you think might be true,” Jeremy explains. “Do you want to know my hypothesis?” 

“No,” he really doesn’t. 

Jeremy ignores him, running the back of his hand along James’ jaw, something that James really shouldn’t let him do but can’t bring himself to stop it. 

“I think you need this.” 

Jeremy doesn’t explain what ‘this’ is. 

James doesn’t want to know, doesn’t want to hear the words come from Jeremy's mouth, “You’re crazy,” he manages to get out. 

And then Jeremy puts a finger in his mouth and it’s so out of nowhere (except if he was thinking properly maybe it wouldn’t have felt so sudden, he could have seen it coming) that James can’t process it fast enough to bite down and yell and scream. 

James really wishes he could think but there’s cotton in his brain and the taste of skin on his tongue and Jeremy hasn’t even done anything yet but it’s already too much. Jeremy’s got him caught in an undertow but James isn’t even trying to swim back to shore at this point. Confusion and lust warring with his better judgment as Jeremy continues to look at him with dark eyes.

“Suck,” Jeremy doesn’t even have to add any force to the words to make it sound like a command and without thinking James does as he is told, swirling his tongue around the digit. “Good boy.” 

The praise makes him pause, brings him back temporarily to the weirdness of the situation. Then Jeremy is reaching a hand behind his head and pulling him in close. James can feel his breath warm against his ear, the sensation sends heat down his spine and he shivers.

“Let’s go somewhere more private,” he says so lightly it’s barely a whisper. “The closet.”

“The closet?” James parrots back stupidly, not processing the words fast enough. 

Jeremy laughs, “You want Autumn to get a little show? Maybe Bruce walks in? Or do you want to do what you’re told and get in the closet?”

And James knows he’s let this go too far already. This is so out of control at this point he’s not sure he could bring it back, but he should at least try. There are warning bells still ringing incessantly in the back of his mind that he should be listening to, but it’s hard when Jeremy strokes his hair with soft fingers that make him feel warm and comfortable.

Maybe Jeremy is right. 

Maybe he does need this. 

It had been a while since he got laid, and Jeremy was probably from hell but at least his voice was low and gravelly just like James liked. 

Or hey, maybe he was just a suicidal idiot. 

Jeremy seems to read his thoughts, his smirk grows larger, impossibly wide, and his hand finds the small of James’ back, urging him forward. They make it to the closet only because Jeremy leads them there. James is too lost in his own head to do much but allow himself to be pushed in. 

The door clicks behind them and they are engulfed in darkness for a second until Jeremy finds the switch and turns it on. Under the fluorescent lighting Jeremy seems paler, the bags under his eyes are more noticeable and his lips seem redder. He looks like a fucking demon and James can’t even pretend that his shiver isn’t one of pleasure. 

There is a casual ruthlessness in the way Jeremy moves as he stalks forward until James is pressed against the filing cabinet. An owl watching the as the rabbit runs. A hunter whose trap already caught the fox. He is a predator in all sense of the word and James has never felt more like prey in his entire life.

Jeremy’s mouth ghosts it’s way across James’ collarbone, one hand still in his hair pulling just enough so that James can’t release any of the tension building in his neck. 

It’s too much and not enough at the same time and James feels like he’s been caught in some kind of fog as Jeremy finally kisses him. There is nothing romantic about it, Jeremy does not wait to see how James will react before plunging his tongue inside. 

It’s warm and wet and good and James is melting like candle wax, becoming malleable to Jeremy’s directions. 

“Turn around,” Jeremy instructs, breathing the words straight down James' throat where they lodge themselves deep into his skin. 

James pauses here, knowing better than to turn his back on an enemy, but Jeremy is already manhandling him, using the grip he has on his hair to move him into the position he wants. James' face is pressed against the cool metal of the storage cabinet before he can even think to fight back. 

“Jeremy,” he starts to protest, but there is a hand on his lower back that silences him. The hand is a promise just as much as it is a warning and James swallows back his trepidation as another hand loops around the front, brushing lightly over his clothed dick before undoing his belt with deft fingers. 

It’s a lot, so much so that even the brightest brush of fingertips against his clothed dick send him into overdrive, panting like a bitch in heat as Jeremy gets his hand in his boxers, tugging them down to the floor with the pants. 

James kicks them away, apparently not so delirious that he doesn’t recognize the possible tripping hazard they might cause just in case he needed to make a quick escape. His logic ends there, as he leans back into Jeremy’s touch on his inner thigh. 

Without warning Jeremy grabs him by the hair again, yanking back so that James’ neck is barred. 

“You are going to enjoy this,” Jeremy informs him in that blase tone that makes James dick twitch. “But, if perhaps you begin to feel in over your head and wish to stop, you may 

Jeremy is offering him an out, and interesting strategy considering how far they have already come. James feels the distinct sting of humiliation and his pride decides to lash out now, not when he was being manhandled into a closet and stripped. His priorities might be a bit fucked. 

“I can take whatever you can dish out you fucking freak,” he sneers while his legs shake from the exertion of staying still for so long with Jeremy’s entire bodyweight a constant pressure on his back. 

There is still one hand tangled in his hair, not necessarily pulling but the grip is strong enough to feel. Jeremy’s other hand is slowly inching its way closer to his dick, walking two fingers leisurely across the span of James’ hips. 

“Good, I’m looking forward to seeing that.” 

And god, does that make James’ skin just crawl. 

Jeremy interrupts the uneasy silence that fills the space between them, "Suck," he commands. Not bothering to see if James is going to listen, just immediately shoving three fingers into his mouth. 

James chokes as the hand on his head tightens, a warning. He decides not to push it and dutifully runs his tongue along the digits, very aware that there is no lube in the closet unless Jeremy carries some in his pocket (which wouldn't be that surprising honestly). 

Jeremy uses two of the finger to pry open James jaw, letting them sit there despite the obvious discomfort they cause before removing them with more force than necessary. 

"Thank you," he says, for some reason, which just makes James more annoyed. 

"You're a bitch." 

James has never been known for his self-preservation instincts, but the flash in Jeremy's eyes makes him regret the words as soon as they leave his mouth. 

"We will see," Jeremy intones lightly. 

And then there’s a hand wrapped around his dick and James almost screams at the sudden friction after nothing for so long. It feels good, like bathing in molten lava and letting your bones and muscles just melt away. 

He’s not sure how long Jeremy touches him for, stroking until James feels his legs beginning to go out and his vision start to white. Each time Jeremy pulls his hand away, traces up and down the planes of his chest and whispers demeaning shit in his ear. 

“Ask for it,” Jeremy says and James really wishes he could but his mouth and brain aren’t communicating and all that comes out is a low, desperate whine. 

Jeremy presses closer, pushing his own clothed crotch up against James’ bare ass, “Come on baby, why don’t you tell me how much you want it?”

It’s filthy. Fucking filthy, he should hate it, but the blush already on his cheeks flares at the ‘baby’ and he struggles for breath. If he could just get some air maybe he could get his stupid brain to work properly and not act like a desperate horny bitch.

This isn’t him, he reminds himself as his lips open of their own accord.

He’s better than this; Jeremy’s fire-hot gaze doesn’t affect him in the slightest.

There’s a no on his lips, a desperate last attempt to bring the situation back under control, but his tongue can’t quite form the right syllables.

He’s stuck with his mouth half-open staring stupidly into Jeremy’s eyes. It must make a funny image because Jeremy laughs and pats his head like he’s some sort of dog, the humiliation of that snaps James’ brain back into focus and he grits his teeth, “Fuck you,” he manages despite the odds. 

Jeremy responds by shoving a finger up his ass. 

In retrospect, it wasn’t an unexpected move, but it still manages to take James by surprise. It’s practically dry, the only lubricant being spit, but it doesn’t really hurt beyond the initial discomfort. 

Jeremy doesn’t release his grip on James' hair as he jolts up at the intrusion.

“Jeremy,” James gasps, unable to control it. 

Jeremy stills and cocks his head like he’s waiting for something, “Yes?” He questions, faux curiosity lacing his tone like arsenic. “Did you need something?” 

And James hates him for all of a second before he feels a second finger working its way inside him, nails scraping just slightly against his inner walls in a way that makes him shudder. It’s an odd feeling, not odder than anything else that’s happened in the past half-hour though. 

“This is what you want, right? I had to guess since you seem to have lost your words.” 

James pushes his face further into Jeremy’s shoulder, embarrassed by how red it must be. His glasses dig painfully into his nose but the feeling is muted compared to the fire in his gut. 

It’s like that for what feels like hours but is probably closer to five minutes. Jeremy is slow, uncharacteristically gentle. The pads of his fingertips occasionally brush against James’ prostate, making him gasp every time. 

And then he adds a second. And a third. 

It’s so agonizingly slow that James is losing coherent thought with each light drag. His body is screaming for more, muscles taut and trembling with exhaustion as sweat pools along his hairline. Throughout it all he can barely form a thought, gulping back moans at some of the raunchier things Jeremy mumbles. 

His body feels like it’s been in a microwave on high for the last ten minutes, two seconds away from just exploding. 

“You know,” Jeremy muses in a voice that’s barely above a whisper. “There isn’t a lock on this door. They just could walk right in and see you like this.” 

James doesn't have to know exactly who ‘they’ is that Jeremy is talking about for a jolt of ice-cold fear to shoot down his spine. He tenses but Jeremy changes the angle of his hand, just slightly, brushing up against his prostate again. James bites back a moan as he melts, the possibility of being caught not forgotten but instead pushed back in his mind where he could ignore it as Jeremy steadfastly took him apart.

“I wonder what Steve would think, seeing you like this.”

James thinks mentions of his best friend and boss should really be one of those off-limits things, the kind that makes you turn away in disgust. Instead, his dick jumps at the thought of being caught in such a compromising way. 

Jeremy notices it, chuckles lowly in response. 

“Uh oh, did I discover something I wasn’t supposed to?” 

“Shut up,” James rasps back, aware but uncaring of the fact that his voice sounds completely wrecked. 

“You’re very demanding,” Jeremy hums, pulling his fingers out and then ironically, “turn around,” he demands himself. 

James really wants to fight, but the achy emptiness inside of him keeps him good as he shifts so that he can finally see Jeremy’s face. 

And what an annoying thing that turned out to be. 

James is sure he looks just as much a wreck as he feels, but Jeremy is barely even breathing heavy. The only thing betraying his arousal is the undeniable bulge peeking through his jeans, otherwise, he could be drinking beers at a bar with the guys. 

Jeremy keeps the tips of his fingers resting on the rim as he hoists one of James’ legs up by the ankle and pushes his back into the filing cabinet, before shoving all three back in forcefully.

James find himself on the verge of screaming once more, stopping himself at the last moment as his brain reminds him of Autumn’s presence just beyond one flimsy unlocked door. He digs his nails into the fleshy part on Jeremy’s shoulder, looking for some kind of payback, but if Jeremy notices he doesn't say anything. 

He wants Jeremy to fucking disappear but he also thinks he might die if Jeremy left him like this. 

It’s quite the conundrum. 

One he might have a chance at solving if Jeremy would just stop fucking twisting his wrist so perfectly. Seriously, wasn’t it weird to be this good at fingering? 

Jeremy leans forward, for a split second James think it might be to kiss him, but then he puts his lips to the shell of his ear and all thought just leaves his brain, _again_.

“Willing to beg yet?” Jeremy whispers so low that James wouldn't have heard it if he wasn’t centimeters from his ear. 

And yeah, James is fucking ready to beg apparently because the second Jeremy says it it’s like a dam has been lifted and James is rambling out all sorts of shit he’s probably going to want to take back when he’s back in a normal state of mind. 

“Please,” he moans, not sure at this point what he was even asking for. 

Whatever Jeremy wanted him to ask for.

“Please?” Jeremy encourages, fingers pausing inside him. 

James hates the tears leaking from his eyes but there is nothing he can do about that right now. 

“Please I need,” James dry sobs into Jeremy’s neck as he crooks long fingers into places didn’t know could feel so good. “I need, this.” 

He can’t even finish. Turns out you kind of needed to be able to think clearly to form clear sentences. Imagine that. Doesn't really matter, Jeremy gives him what he wants anyways because that’s why they’re here. 

“Who's the bitch now?” Jeremy whispers but is smile is proud and he nods, which is all James needs to fucking lose it.

When James comes it’s almost too much, Jeremy’s constant hand on his dick through the entire thing certainly doesn’t help with the whole over-stimulated feeling. 

There’s a flash of light before his eyes roll back in their sockets and the ringing in his ears sounds like a tidal wave crashing right above him without any warning whatsoever. He can feel his body go taut like a bow, falling limply into Jeremy’s grasp. Thankfully Jeremy doesn’t let him flop to the floor as he struggles to catch his breath and waits for his brain to start working again.

It takes a minute for James to remember where he is and who he’s with, but once he does he pulls himself away with fervor, the blush on his cheeks getting impossibly hotter as he struggles not to panic. 

Miraculously his glasses managed to stay on, unfortunately, that means that when he’s finally able to blink away the wetness that has gathered in the corners of his eyes the first thing he can see is Jeremy’s smarmy grin.

Like he’s some type of winner. 

Does that make James the loser?

There’s fucking cum on the ground and not only is it an embarrassing reminder of what had just happened but it’s also evidence that Steve is going to find when he inevitably starts snooping around to try and figure out what Jeremy had wanted after James gives him some half-assed answer because he is not going to be telling the truth about this particular encounter.

“Clean that up!” James can’t help but wince, his voice is shot.

Jeremy looks at the puddle and hums. 

“It’s your mess, isn’t it?”

And James really can’t be in this closet anymore; it’s literally suffocating him to be this close to Jeremy especially with the stink of sex still permeating the air. He’ll come back tomorrow to clean up, early in the morning, before even Autumn gets here.

“Don’t ever talk to me again,” James says in response as he struggles to pull up his pants and smooth out his boxers.

Jeremy doesn’t respond, nor does he bother to hide his obvious interest in James’ struggle to find his clothes though he does not offer any help. He just leans back on the shelf even though it can’t be comfortable, sprawled against the hard metal.

“And don’t tell Steve!” James adds, not liking the silence. “Or Cib, or Autumn, or whoever else you talk to. Nobody knows who isn’t in this closet.”

He finally gets his pants on right and looks hopefully put together enough to not arouse suspicion. When he slowly opens the closet door and peeks through the crack Autumn is thankfully still tapping away at her laptop with her headphones over her ears, completely unaware of her surroundings.

“Hey James,” Jeremy calls just as he makes it to the door.

He has half a mind to just leave, but he turns around out of curiosity. Jeremy is still fully dressed (he hadn’t even gotten his dick out James realizes with dawning horror), sunglasses back on and looking perfectly normal whereas James can still feel the heat tingeing his cheeks and knows his hair is all over the place.

“What,” he spits out.

Jeremy smirks again like he’s won something, “While the evidence gathered is very telling, it would be unscientific to experiment only once.”

James clenches his teeth but doesn’t offer any rebuttal or smart one-liner like he normally would, just slams the door behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> i know autumn doesn't share the office anymore but oh well thats life this whole thing has older sp7 vibes anyways mb it's set last year who knows 
> 
> the end is unedited because i was so tired of staring at this in the wip folder so let me kno if anything seems weird 
> 
> tumblr: cherryw00d


End file.
